Clever's in Nod. Slab, somnambulism minus the sleepwalking. Zoning out whilst treading neither frosty giant nor gossamer fairy land. Wrote something, then rewrote it, then re-rewrote, then unwrote the first rewrite, doubled the second, folded it into a triangle, thumbed it through a parallelogram, possibly a rhombus.
Sacred tectonic aftermath, three a.m. astronomie ys full of awe & awe-full.
♫ Don't call it a hoodwink ♪
Beware burnynge carafes!
Monday, March 5, 2012
It's like something out of that twilighty show about that zone
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This is what I'll play when my sore foot wakes me up again tonight.
(Was chasing deer around with the dawwg, stepped on a rock. *sniff*)
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Re: the above parenthetical remark.
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What, you don't have a tank like your local SWAT team? Hippie.
I don't think the dawwg would like being walked behind a tank, but one never knows until one tries...
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A twilighty show about a zone? Hmmm, that sounds interesting. What's the name of it?
So long as the vampyres sparkle not, homie!
I had the same thing happen to me the other day. :)
((Hugs))
Laura
like man, this is some heavy bashing guitar riffs ya know ;)
rewrite it until you can't write anymore...then write it again...
That sounds exactly like a description of someone making a paper airplane.
For me rewriting a rewrite of something I wrote then reading it once again and finding typos has just about drove me insane.
And like Charlie Brown I fell for it again and clicked play. Doh! (bangs head on wall in time with the tune)
Demeur, thanks for the warning. I'll pass. :)
Randal, alas, a burnynge carafe begets rancid brewe. May the spirit of Juan Valdez be with you (as I also pass on the temptation to point you to my favorite source of flavorful hi-test coffee, made fresh upteen times daily).
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